


The Southwark Safe House

by Persiflage



Series: Bondkink Fics [60]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Assassination, Canon Typical Violence, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingerfucking, Gunplay, Inspired by Photography, Older Woman/Younger Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 15:29:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1108489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond and M are forced to stay at a MI6 safe house - with unintended consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tayryn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tayryn/gifts).



> This fic was inspired by [this post](http://pers-books.tumblr.com/post/69959780612/callmebondjamesbond007-bond-james-bond-007).  
> It's a prequel to Skyfall.  
> Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine!

Bond leaned against the wall, looking out of the window at the river. He had one hand in his trouser pocket, but despite his casual stance, M wasn't fooled for a moment into thinking he'd relaxed just because they'd arrived at the safe house without being intercepted. She supposed she should be grateful he wasn't pacing around like a caged tiger, but she suspected that behaviour might yet manifest itself, depending on how long they were forced to remain here.

"I'm going to get something to eat," she told him. "Are you hungry?"

He raised a quizzical eyebrow at her, then reached up to loosen his tie. "Yeah, I am, now I think about it."

She nodded. "I'll see what's in stock."

He was pulling his tie off as she went through to the kitchen. Safe houses like this one were used on a relatively regular basis, usually as somewhere to house someone temporarily before they were given a new identity and relocated either elsewhere in the country, or overseas. People who'd defected from a country hostile to Britain, or double agents who'd had to run for it or risk having their cover blown. She knew this one had been occupied until only a few days ago, and while she didn't expect much in the way of fresh food to be available, she did expect to find things with a longer shelf life in the cupboards, and she hoped there'd be something in the freezer too.

007-007-007

The kitchen turned out to be better stocked that M had hoped, and she went back into the living room to ask Bond whether he wanted steak or fish for dinner. She found him still standing by the window, with his tie in his hands – he'd begun to roll the thin end of it around two fingers – and his top shirt button was undone, and she took this as a good sign, a symbol that he was beginning to relax at least a little.

"I'll come and give you a hand," he told her when she asked him what he wanted to eat. He discarded the tie across the back of the leather sofa, and began to cross the room towards her.

She smirked slightly. "And can you cook?" she teased.

He scowled and she had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing out loud at his expression. "Of course I can cook," he said in a very dignified tone.

"Very well."

He followed her through to the kitchen and they set to work, Bond insisting that _he_ would cook their steaks, and she should concentrate on the mushrooms, tomatoes, etc.

She thought of giving him one of her patented deadly glares, but decided that she was so relieved that he wasn't going to brood about being the one who'd got landed with playing bodyguard, that she simply gave him a nod, then turned her attention to her task, leaving him to find a pan in which to cook the steaks.

"I'm sorry you got stuck babysitting me," she told him half an hour later when they were sitting down to eat, looking out at the darkening skyline above Tower Bridge. "I know you'd rather you were the one out there, hunting down Harrison and Peters."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Bond said, his tone a little sharp.

M raised her eyebrows. "I beg your pardon, 007?" She was aware that her tone was cold, and that she was giving him one of those glares, but she didn't care.

"I told Tanner I'd get you to safety," he said.

" _You_ volunteered for this?" she asked disbelievingly. 

"Yes." His tone was curt, but emphatic. He didn't look at her again, but turned his attention to his meal, and she stared at the top of his head for a few moments, trying to absorb what he'd just told her. Then she shook herself mentally, and began to eat, but her mind was churning. Bond was a field agent _par excellence_ , which was why he was a Double-0, and it didn't make sense to her that he was happy to stay here for an indefinite period of time while other agents took responsibility for hunting down Peters and Harrison, two enemies from her own Double-0 days during the Cold War. Bond wasn't the type to relish passivity, and that was what would be necessary for however long it took her other agents to trace and subdue the men who'd already tried to kill her once today.

They ate dinner in silence, then cleared away and Bond loaded the dishwasher while M made some coffee; afterwards they sat down to watch the nine o'clock news, curious to see how Tanner had spun the events of the afternoon to the media.

007-007-007

The news bulletin had barely finished when Bond's phone rang: it rang three times, then stopped, then another three times, before stopping again. 

"That's Tanner's signal," Bond said.

"Mr Tanner? I thought Miss Moneypenny was the one bringing our things?"

Bond shook his head. "No, I rang Bill and asked him to do the duty tonight. I'll go and let him in. Stay here."

Although it was an unnecessary order, M didn't take him to task, knowing that it would be better for him not to leave Tanner waiting for any longer than necessary at the entrance to the gated community of which this flat was a part, not unless they wanted to risk discovery. 

She turned off the television, then pulled the curtains across the picture window. Once upon a time no safe house would have had windows of such size, but in these days of reinforced glass, there was no reason not to – and the windows were double glazed, which meant that it would require a tank, or a massive explosion to penetrate them. Since a tank couldn't get close, there was no need to worry about that threat, and while it was theoretically possible that someone could plant sufficient explosives outside the window to destroy it, it was also highly unlikely given the amount of security in place. The reason that SIS had chosen to buy a flat here was the level of security available that it didn't even have to pay for or employ, although there were three SIS operatives within the roster of men and women who maintained the community's security. In addition to what had been provided, SIS had installed surveillance equipment of its own around the building, and that fed live pictures back to HQ, which were monitored 24/7 when the house was occupied. 

A few moments later Tanner came into the room, Bond at his heels.

"Hello Bill." 

"Ma'am." His eyes had widened slightly at her less formal address, but he nodded at her. "I've brought overnight bags for you both," he told her. "They're in the hall. I also brought eggs, milk, fresh bread, and some fruit and vegetables. Is there anything else you want?"

M shrugged. "I can't think of anything at the moment, unless it's the heads of Peters and Harrison."

His lips quirked into an almost-smile, and he shook his own head slightly. "I'm afraid we've yet to trace them, ma'am."

"Somehow I'm not surprised. They always were a devious pair of bastards."

Tanner's eyes widened again, but he didn't say anything, just held out the keys to M's and Bond's flats which they'd given to Eve earlier, after they'd taken the decision that Bond needed to get M to a safe house.

"Thank you Mr Tanner." She took her keys and pocketed them, then looked at Bond. "I think I shall go and have a bath before bed. It's been a busy day."

Bond snorted. "Always the understatement from you, isn't it M?"

She raised an eyebrow, but declined to comment, and instead wished Tanner goodnight before making her way out into the hall and collecting the bag Tanner had brought for her. She carried it along the hall to her room and unpacked swiftly, then gathered her toiletries and her bathrobe, and made her way into the bathroom.

007-007-007

"How's she holding up?" Tanner asked Bond as he accepted a seat, but refused a drink.

"Earlier she apologised to me for me being stuck 'babysitting' her," he said. "Her word, not mine."

Tanner frowned. "You volunteered."

Bond nodded. "I did, but she didn't realise that. She thought I'd rather be out there, tracking down those bastards."

"To be honest, that was what I'd expected you to want to do, too. I figured you'd suggest Eve for the job of playing bodyguard."

Bond shook his head. "Eve's a good agent – got the makings of a first class Double-0, I'd say – but I couldn't have trusted anyone else to do this job."

Tanner gave him a puzzled look. "Why not?" 

"Without wanting to sound too immodest, she should have the best agent for the job."

Tanner gave a soft chuckle. "You, James, immodest? Perish the thought."

Bond scowled, but it was only a half-hearted effort. He and Bill Tanner had been friends for a long time, so he was prepared to take quite a bit of teasing from the other man.

"Will you be all right though, just the two of you cooped up here?"

"We'll manage," Bond answered. "We'll have to until those bastards are captured or killed."

Tanner nodded his understanding. "All right. I'd better be going. Eve will come tomorrow evening. We decided that we'd alternate just between the two of us. The fewer people who know exactly which safe house you're in, the better."

"Very well." Bond got to his feet and ushered him to the door. "Thanks, Bill."

Tanner nodded. "Keep her safe."

"I will." 

Bond waited until Tanner's form had disappeared from sight, then he went around the flat, ensuring everything was secure and turning off the lights, before he grabbed his bag from the hall and went to his own room. He just hoped Harrison and Peters would be caught quickly, otherwise he suspected he and M would soon be suffering from cabin fever.

007-007-007

As she lay in the bath, her eyes closed and the back of her neck propped on a folded towel, M replayed the events of the afternoon that had led them here.

_Several Hours Earlier_

M was being driven back to Vauxhall Cross after spending most of her afternoon with the Joint Intelligence Committee, a tedious meeting which had left her itching to escape. She was reading over the notes she'd taken when her car jerked to a stop, and she lost her grip on one of the files, which slithered to the floor. Muttering a silent curse she ducked down to pick it up and was startled by a shower of glass landing on her back. She lifted her head cautiously, careful not to raise it above the top of the car seat and saw what she'd feared to discover: her driver was dead. Abandoning the files, she scooped up her bag, and grabbing her phone, she'd hit the speed dial even as a second shot hit the back of the driver's seat, exploding upholstery everywhere.

"Mr Tanner. I'm being shot at, and my driver's dead," M told him, hoping she didn't sound as breathless as she felt.

"Where are you?" he asked immediately, and she was pleased by the calmness in his voice.

"Somewhere near Parliament Square."

She heard keys clicking and guessed he was checking CCTV cameras in the area. "What's the traffic like around you?"

"It isn't jammed solid," she told him; she'd been keeping half an eye on it as they'd travelled, more out of habit than anything else. She was wondering if there was going to be a third shot, or if the sniper was waiting for her to show herself before he risked that. "No one's attempted to penetrate the car, yet. I'm thinking now would be a good moment to get out of the car."

"I don't think you should do that, ma'am," Tanner said firmly. "Bond and Eve are on their way to you."

"So you want me to sit here and wait to be picked off?" M snapped, aware that she wasn't really angry at Tanner, but rather at whomever had had the infernal cheek to try to assassinate her.

"No, ma'am, but I've got your car in view, and if anyone other than Bond or Eve approaches it, I'll be able to let you know."

At that moment, horns started hooting behind her and M realised that her car had been stationary for too long. There was nothing she could do, however. She didn't dare to risk waving cars past hers since she'd have to expose herself to the sniper, who was probably waiting for her to do just that.

"The police have been alerted, too, ma'am, and armed officers from the Counter Terrorism Command are on their way to you."

"Very well, Mr Tanner. I'll leave this line open until Bond or the CTC gets here."

"Yes ma'am."

M waited in silence, her muscles taut and aching with the need to move. The traffic behind her was going around the car, she could hear it passing, with occasional further hooting of car horns. She remained lying across the back seat, her files gathered beneath her, and her bag in her free hand. She was just beginning to wish something would happen when she heard sirens approaching, and she gave a soft sigh of relief.

"Ma'am?"

"Yes, Mr Tanner?"

"The CTC officers are approaching, and Bond and Eve are also within visual range. I recommend that you don't move, however, until the officers reach the car. They've been ordered to surround it so that Bond and Eve can get you out of there."

"Very well."

"And we've decided that you'd better not come back to the office for the time being, and you definitely shouldn't go home, either."

M felt like snarling, but she refrained, knowing that Tanner was right. If whoever was after her knew her schedule well enough to attempt to assassinate her in the middle of a busy London street in daylight, they were certain to know where she worked, and where she lived. "I can see the sense in that," she replied as calmly as she could. 

"If you give Eve your keys, she'll go and pack some clothes, toiletries, etc. for you, and we'll get the bag to you at the safe house."

"Which one are we using?" asked M.

"We thought the one in Southwark would be safest, ma'am. Especially since it's been used recently, so we know it's clean and ready for use."

"All right, Mr Tanner."

"The CTC officers are going to be with you in a moment. I'll talk to you later."

"Thank you, Mr Tanner."

M waited until one of the officers knocked on the passenger door before she moved, and then only after she'd glanced around, and seen the men and women surrounding the car. As she sat up, she glimpsed Bond's face as he shouldered his way through the officers, with Eve behind him, and she realised abruptly that they'd arrived by motorcycle.

She scooped up her files as Bond opened the passenger door nearest the pavement, and allowed him to help her out of the backseat, his body interposed between hers and the sniper, or where she assumed the sniper had been, somewhere behind her.

"Are you all right?" Bond asked, and she saw concern in his blue eyes as he looked down at her.

"Shaken," she admitted in a low voice.

"Of course," he said. His grip on her arm tightened slightly, as he guided her, still shielded by several of the officers, towards another car. "Don't worry, this one's armoured."

"Won't they be able to track it?" she asked.

"We'll be changing vehicles before we get to the safe house," he told her, and ushered her into the back seat, before sliding in beside her. "All right, Norris."

The driver nodded an acknowledgement, then pulled away, skirting around the car which M had just vacated. She was aware that Eve was following them on the motorbike, and asked, "A motorbike, Bond?"

"Fastest way to get to you from Vauxhall Cross, ma'am. After all, motorbikes can go where cars cannot."

"I do hope you haven't picked up any tickets, Bond."

"Not that I'm aware of, ma'am." He gave her a smile, as if relieved that she could make jokes at a time like this.

"Good."

They only drove for a few minutes, as far as Elephant and Castle, then the driver pulled over, and a second car pulled in behind them. 

"This is where we swap cars," Bond told her. "Just in case the sniper or his friends saw us leaving."

She nodded, then climbed out of the car; Norris, the driver, preceded her, and Bond followed very close behind her, and she heard him sigh with relief as they settled into the second car. As they pulled away, she saw that Eve remained with them, and she guessed that Eve would be the one who'd be remaining with her at the safe house once she'd had a chance to go and fetch some clothes of her own, as well as some for her boss.

Within fifteen minutes of them leaving Parliament Square, the second driver, Daniels, was pulling into the entrance of the gated community in Southwark where SIS had purchased a flat a few years ago. The security guard stopped them, and checked Bond's credentials before allowing them inside, and Daniels drove straight across the car park to the flat which M had visited only twice before. Eve followed in their wake and parked alongside the armoured car, as Bond and M climbed out.

"Thank you, Daniels. That will be all." 

"Right you are, sir." The driver nodded, then reversed backwards, before turning the car and disappearing back through the gateway.

The trio of SIS staff made their way inside; Bond insisted on going first, and he made Eve and M wait inside the front door while he checked the flat was clear. He returned within a few moments and they made their way into the secure comms room from where M rang Tanner, switching the phone to its speaker so they could all hear and talk to him.

"Do you have an update for me, Mr Tanner?"

"Yes I do, ma'am." He proceeded to give her the preliminary findings of the forensics team who had examined the car and her dead driver. "Also, we had a bit of luck."

"What sort of luck?" asked Bond immediately.

"We managed to get a partial shot of two men entering a building on Parliament Square, within the right range for the sniper. We're running the photo through the facial recognition software at this moment, but so far we haven't identified them.

"Email me the photo, please, Mr Tanner," M said instantly. She gestured to the computer workstation near Eve, and she immediately switched it on.

"It's sent, ma'am," Tanner told her.

The computer came to life, so Eve and M swapped chairs so that she could access her email account. She opened the email from Tanner and clicked on the photo attachment.

"Evelyn Peters and Aubrey Harrison," she said softly.

"Who?" asked Tanner and Bond simultaneously.

M repeated their names. "Two field agents who defected to Russia during the Cold War. Bastards." She saw Bond and Eve both jerk at the venomous tone in her voice, and knew she'd shocked them, and probably Tanner too, but she didn't care.

"What happened?" asked Bond softly.

"They were working under my command in Hong Kong where I was Station Head. We'd been suspicious of them for some time, and had been keeping a very close watch on them. The night they were leaving the country, four agents were sent to bring them in, and three of them didn't survive the encounter. The fourth was permanently crippled and left in a wheelchair. She committed suicide six months later because she couldn't bear the fact that she'd never be able to have children – her fiancé had taken that news pretty badly, too, you see, and had left her just a few weeks before, breaking off their engagement."

She glared at the photo on the screen, recalling the agonies of those events.

"Why would they have come after you now, ma'am?" asked Tanner.

"You'd have to ask them that, Mr Tanner, assuming we can capture them." She sighed heavily. "Whoever goes after them had better not go alone, or unarmed, and make sure they understand these two men are very, very dangerous."

She looked at Bond and Eve, who both nodded, their expressions intent. M felt an increase of tension at the thought of Bond going after the two of them – she knew, of course, that the life of a Double-0 was immensely dangerous and that he could easily be killed on any mission on which she sent him, but the possibility of losing him to those two rogue agents was one she didn't want to contemplate.

"I've got their files open now, ma'am," Tanner said. "I'll read through them carefully, then organise a team of agents and brief them."

"Very well, Mr Tanner."

"I'll be in touch later."

"Thank you." M disconnected the call, then looked at her two companions. "You two will have to be very, very careful going after Harrison and Peters."

"I'll be staying here, ma'am," Bond said. He fished in his jacket pocket and gave Eve some keys. "For my flat. There's a holdall in the bottom of the wardrobe that you can use." He looked back at M. "Will you excuse me, ma'am?"

She nodded, and he went out. "I'd better give you my keys," she observed to Eve, and dug them out of her shoulder bag. "I thought Bond would be going after the assassins."

The younger woman shook her head. "No, ma'am." She accepted the second set of keys. "What do you want me to bring for you?"

"Don't bother with another suit," M said, "but you'd better bring me three or four blouses, some underwear, my pyjamas are under my pillow. And there's a bathrobe on the back of my bedroom door. In the bathroom you'll find a toiletries bag – it's already packed. I keep one ready in case I need to leave in a hurry."

"Very well, ma'am."

Bond came back into the room as Eve got to her feet, pocketing both sets of keys. "When you come back, ring my mobile," he told her. "Let it ring three times, then kill the call, then let it ring another three times, and I'll let you in."

She nodded. "I'll be back before ten o'clock," she told them.

M nodded in reply, listening with half an ear as Bond saw Eve out. She returned her attention to her email, and began dealing with what was in her inbox. Just because she couldn't go back to the office, there was no reason she couldn't get on with her work.

"Coffee?" 

"Please." M didn't immediately look up from the email she was answering, and when she did, Bond had already disappeared. Shrugging, she returned her attention back to the email, and when he returned a short time later with a cup of coffee, she thanked him absent-mindedly.

007-007-007

_Now_

Becoming aware that her bath water was beginning to grow cold, M jerked herself out of her recollections and topped up the water a little, then washed herself. Ten minutes later, she made her way to her room, which was between the comms room and the sitting room. Bond's room was inside the front door – he'd insisted he should be the one to sleep there, and M hadn't bothered to argue since it made sense that he should have that room in terms of security.

"Bathroom's free, James," she called. He opened his door immediately.

"Thanks."

"Goodnight James."

"Goodnight." He gave her a nod, and she stepped into her room, closing the door behind her. She removed her bathrobe and pulled on her pyjamas, then took the book she was currently reading, together with her reading glasses, from her shoulder bag, and climbed into bed. 

As she made herself comfortable, she couldn't help thinking that it was lucky that her husband had passed away the previous year since it meant there was no one to worry about her involuntary absence from home.

She began to read, but soon found herself distracted; she was wondering why Bond had volunteered to remain with her instead of letting Eve do it. She couldn't seem to reconcile what she knew of his essential character with this rather out of character behaviour. Deciding that Bond was simply being enigmatic, she resolved not to think about the matter any further and made herself focus on her book instead.

007-007-007

Bond thought he'd been asleep for about three hours when the noise woke him. At first he couldn't work out what he'd heard, but then it came again, and he realised that it was M. He leapt out of bed, rushing from his room and up the corridor just as the shout came again. He pushed open the door to her room and saw from the light spilling in from the hall that she was thrashing about in the bed, her legs tangled in the bedding, and her eyes firmly shut. He guessed she was having a nightmare, and he hurried across to the bed, kneeling beside it so that he wouldn't be looming over her, and carefully shook her awake.

"NO!" She cried out as she struck out at him but he caught her wrists in a gentle, yet firm, grasp, and spoke to her,

"M, it's James, you're safe. You were dreaming."

Her eyes opened and she stared at him uncomprehendingly for a few moments before she shuddered and bit at her bottom lip.

"Nightmare?" he asked, releasing his grasp on her wrists.

"Yes."

"Would it help to talk about it?"

She shrugged. "Just the usual stupid sort of stuff," she said, her voice sounding huskier than usual.

"Being chased by a giant kitten? Or perhaps a large slipper?" She gave him a look – one of her patented 'You're an idiot, Bond' looks, and he smirked slightly, then asked more seriously, "Something nastier, then?"

She nodded, then pushed herself up the bed until she was sitting upright. "We were being chased by Peters and Harrison," she said. "They'd already killed Eve and Tanner." She looked so stricken that Bond didn't even think, he just leaned forward and embraced her; for a moment she didn't move, and he wondered if he'd gone too far, and was just starting to pull away when she put her arms around him in return. 

He could smell her bubble bath on her skin, or maybe it was body lotion that she'd put on afterwards – she smelled very nice, though, and he felt his cock stir. It wasn't the first time, of course, that M had caused him to become aroused, but normally he was able to hide it from her – if he stood up now, however, she'd definitely notice because he was only wearing loose cotton pyjama trousers, and his growing erection would be impossible to miss. He knew he should let go of M; knew that the combination of her scent with the sensation of her breasts pressing against his bare chest with only her pyjama top separating their skin was what was making him grow even harder; knew that he had longed to share sexual intimacy with her for several years, but never quite dared to try his luck with her for fear she'd bounce him out of the Service so hard he'd end up in Timbuktu or Siberia. He knew all of that, yet he still didn't try to pull away, and it was M, predictably, who made the first move.

"I think I'll go and make myself some hot chocolate," she said as she pulled free of his arms.

"Let me," he said immediately, and stood up to prevent her from moving, then remembered his arousal. He felt himself beginning to blush as M found herself confronted with the evidence of his desire, more or less at her eye-level.

"Are you that starved of female companionship, Mr Bond?" she asked, a wry smile quirking her lips.

"No ma'am."

"Are you sure? It seems to me that you'd have to be feeling fairly deprived to get an erection from holding an old woman like me."

"You're not old," he said immediately.

M snorted. "Of course I am, James. They'll be pensioning me off in another couple of years."

He shook his head. "Your chronological age may be nearly pension age, but you're very youthful in spirit."

M laughed, then stopped quickly when she realised he was offended. "My dear boy, do you think flattery will get you anywhere."

"It's not mere flattery, Olivia," he told her sharply, realising that he was risking a bollocking by using her name. He perched on the edge of the bed without bothering to ask for permission. "I don't think you realise how downright sexy you are."

She shook her head in denial, and he sighed. "You are, though, Sexy, sensual, and very, very desirable."

"James, have you been drinking?"

"Of course not," he said immediately. "I'm telling you the sober truth. Christ! Every time you give me a bollocking, I get a massive boner – you're very sexy when you're angry – it's all that power." He smirked. "I usually have to go away and wank after you've finished blistering my ears."

"James!" 

He wondered if her protest sounded as half-hearted to her ears as it did to his, especially since he was sitting close enough to look her in the eye, and he could see her pupils had widened: she was also growing aroused. He reached out and cupped her cheek with his left hand, then, when she didn't offer a protest, he leaned in and began to kiss her. She opened her mouth to his tongue and he moaned as he slipped his tongue past her lips to deepen the kiss. 

Eventually they had to part to catch their breath, and he leaned his forehead against hers. "Now do you believe me?" he asked, his voice low.

"Yes." She seemed to sigh the word, and his lips curved into a smile.

"Olivia, if you don't want this sort of involvement with me, you had better say so right now, and I'll go back to my room while I still have half an ounce of willpower left."

"James, I want you."

"Oh god!" He pulled back to look into her eyes and saw the sincerity in her expression.

"If you want to fuck me, though, you'd better get the lube out of my toiletries bag." She gestured at the dressing table on the other side of the room, and he cocked an eyebrow at her, then got to his feet and made his way to the dressing table. He found the bottle of lube easily, and hooked it out, then turned back to the bed.

She held out her hand and he took it, then yelped in surprise when she jerked on his arm and tugged him down onto the bed.

"Fuck!" he gasped, looking up at her, feeling both respect and more lust for her.

"I still know a trick or two," she told him, smirking.

"I bet you do, you little witch," he muttered, and passed her the bottle of lube.

"You'd better get your trousers off, James."

He stood up on the bed and pulled them off, noticing the way she eyed his cock when he straightened up, then knelt down beside her. He leaned forward and began kissing her at the same time as he began to unfasten the buttons of her pyjama top, then his hands were on those frankly magnificent tits as he kissed and kissed and kissed her.

M couldn't help moaning, quite loudly in fact, as James fondled her breasts and kissed her as if he never meant to stop. She arched her back, thrusting them more firmly into his hands as she felt an orgasm beginning to build. She began massaging her pussy through her pyjama trousers, until he tugged her hand away and began manoeuvring off the trousers.

"Christ, Olivia! Please! Please let me fuck you."

She couldn't recall the last time anyone had begged her in such a manner, and she felt a throb in her pussy in response.

"Yes. Yes, YES!"

The last word was a shout as James drove his fingers inside her and she came instantly, her body jerking up off the bed as she climaxed hard. He withdrew his fingers, then grabbed the bottle of lube, which had been discarded, and poured some onto his fingers, which he then slid back inside her pussy. She groaned as he twisted two fingers inside her, stretching her, then he eased his fingers free again, before slicking up his cock with lube. He moved his body over hers and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he seemed to hesitate, the head of his cock poised at the entrance to her pussy.

"Fuck me, James," she said, in her sternest tone.

"Gladly, Olivia." He began to push inside her and she did her best to relax her muscles so that she could accommodate the girth of his cock more easily. She realised that he was swearing breathlessly in a very low voice and smirked, then slid her hands down his back to grasp his buttocks. She pulled hard and fast, and he cried out as his cock penetrated her all the way.

"I said fuck me," she said.

"I know," he said quickly. "I didn't want to hurt you, though."

"Well you're not, so get on with it."

He smirked. "Yes ma'am."

"Cheeky sod," she muttered, and squeezed her inner muscles more tightly around his cock. He groaned, then withdrew until only the tip of his cock was still inside her. He thrust back inside her more quickly this time, and she murmured "Good boy" in his ear, then bit it for good measure.

James immediately began to fuck her in earnest, and she clung to him until she felt her orgasm was about to hit her, and she let go of him to grab handfuls of bedding as her body arched up underneath him.

"Fuck!" He gasped, and she felt his thrusts becoming less controlled, and knew he was close to climax himself. 

"Come on, James. Come for me."

He gave one last thrust, then stilled, and she felt his cock pulsing inside her as he reached his own orgasm.

"Christ!" He lifted his head and she saw sweat beading his brow. "That was even better than I ever dared to hope," he said, and the sincerity of his tone made her blush.

"Thank you."

He leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips, then lifted himself off her. "Do you want me to go back to my own bed?"

"No," she said immediately. "Not unless you want to go."

He shook his head, smiling. "Not in the least."

"Then stay." She put the bottle of lube on the bedside table, then reached for the light switch, turning off the bedside light, as James slid under the covers, then allowed him to wrap his arms around her, her back to his chest.

"Goodnight James."

"Night Olivia."

She fell asleep almost instantly.

007-007-007

M woke the next morning to a surprisingly languorous feeling of well-being, and it was only when she registered the male body pressed firmly against her back that she realised why she felt so good, if a little sore. Years of sexual tension had finally been resolved the night before, and although she knew she should regret what they'd done since it was hardly professional of her to let one of her agents fuck her, she found she couldn't regret it at all. 

James' cock was hard against her arse and she couldn't help wriggling a little just to enjoy the sensation. She heard his breathing change and knew she'd woken him, but she didn't speak – she was waiting to see if he would express any regret for what they'd done.

"Good morning, Olivia." His arms tightened around her, his right hand shifting to clasp her left breast, and he nuzzled the side of her neck.

"Good morning, James." She moaned softly as he fondled her breast. "No regrets, then?" she asked.

"I never regret a good fuck," he told her. He clasped her other breast in his left hand as the right one slid down over her abdomen and between her thighs.

"Lube," she said, already growing breathless with desire. "Please."

"Pass it over, then."

She reached out and grabbed the bottle, and he took it from her, uncapped it, then poured some onto his fingers before snapping the cap back in place. She took the bottle from him, then moaned as he eased his fingers inside her.

"Too much?" he asked softly.

"No," she gasped. "Don't stop."

He slid his fingers deeper and began to finger her in a very leisurely manner; the tension in her body increased, coiling through her limbs and centring on her pussy until he drove her over edge and she shuddered against him.

007-007-007

James Bond couldn't quite believe he wasn't dreaming: after so many years of fantasising about sex with M, here they were, in bed together, having both fucked and slept together. But none of his dreams had ever been this realistic – the scent of Olivia's skin, the warmth of her body pressed against his, the sensation of sliding his fingers in and out of her slick pussy, the sound of her moan as he triggered her orgasm – this was definitely real, and it was even better than he'd ever dared to hope. 

He shifted backwards on the bed, and eased her down onto her back, but as he reached towards her, they both heard her phone beginning to ring. James rolled his eyes, then scowled when Olivia uttered a soft giggle as she scrambled out of the bed and went to get her phone from her bag.

"M."

"Sorry to ring you so early, ma'am," Tanner said, "but I wanted to let you know we've got a lead on the whereabouts of Harrison and Peters."

"It's all right, Mr Tanner," she told him, "I was already awake. Let me get Bond and you can tell us both about this lead." She was moving back around the bed as she spoke, and sat back down, glancing at James.

He shook his head slightly at her, and she raised her eyebrows, until he shrugged then nodded. She pressed the speaker option and said, "Go ahead please, Mr Tanner."

"We've been checking all the CCTV footage, starting from Parliament Square and widening outwards since the two men had already left the building before the Counter Terrorism Command officers could get to it. Anyway, we got another glimpse of them entering a car parking area within a few metres of Parliament Square, and we managed to get most of the license plate, which we've traced to a car that was rented from Heathrow Airport three days ago."

"So they've been in the country for three days?" M asked, watching as James began plumping up the pillows on his side of the bed. She noticed that his cock was no longer as hard as it had been, but that was hardly surprising in the circumstances.

"Yes ma'am. We're still working to establish where they flew in from, but the CCTV footage shows the car heading out of London towards Surrey some time after they attempted to assassinate you."

"So in all probability they've got a bolthole somewhere – probably not too many miles out," M observed as James picked up the two pillows behind her. He seemed to stare at something and for a moment she couldn't think what had caught his attention, until she recalled that she had put her gun under her pillow last night.

He reached out and picked it up, and she saw his eyes widen as he took in the pearl inlay on the handle. She felt her face heating up as he looked up at her and she caught sight of the expression of lust on his face; she also noticed that his cock was beginning to swell again, and she felt a jolt of desire in response.

"Yes ma'am. We're still checking the CCTV footage along their route, but we hope to have more details soon. We'll let you know when we do, but in the meantime, I think it's probably safer for you to remain where you are for now."

"Yes, I think you're right, Mr Tanner," M said, desperate to end the call, otherwise she feared James would jump her before Tanner had gone. "Let me know as soon as you have anything firm, please."

"Yes ma'am." 

There was a click as Tanner disconnected the call, and M hurriedly shoved her phone onto the bedside table. 

"You slept with a gun under your pillow last night," James said, his voice sounding hoarse.

"I did."

"Fuck, Olivia, that's – " He shook his head, then gestured at the pillows. "Lie down."

She complied, aware of a throbbing in her pussy that was the result of his obvious arousal. He cocked the gun and removed the bullets, then closed it up again before leaning over her. He began kissing her hungrily and she grabbed the back of his head, then her whole body jolted in shock as he slid the end of the gun barrel into her.

"Christ!" She'd never been fucked with a gun barrel before, but she had to admit that it felt good. Of course, it would need cleaning afterwards, but that was a small price to pay in the circumstances.

James continued to kiss her, even as he used the gun to fuck her, and she groaned as she felt the damp head of his cock brushing against her thigh, leaving a sticky smear of pre-cum across her skin. As good as the gun barrel felt, what she really wanted was his thick prick inside her, and she was glad when he quickly brought her to another orgasm, her body arching up from the bed as she came with a loud cry.

He eased the gun from her, then laid it on the bedside table. "On your hands and knees," he told her. 

She rolled over onto her stomach, then pushed herself up onto her hands and knees. James moved behind her and she grunted as he began pushing his cock inside her, his hands clasping her hips as he penetrated deeply into her pussy, and she grabbed at the headboard to steady herself as he began to thrust. 

There was one delicious benefit to have such a younger man in her bed, she realised – he had far more stamina than her late husband had ever had. 

His hands migrated from her hips to her tits, and she moaned as he rolled her already-stiff nipples between finger and thumb. At the same time he began kissing the back and side of her neck, then nipping at her skin, while continuing to thrust deep and hard, and she felt an intense surge of desire as her pussy muscles tightened around his cock. She had barely begun to orgasm before he cried out and she felt him coming too.

He wrapped his arms around her torso, lowered her to the bed, then rolled over so they were lying on their sides. 

"I think that bath's big enough for two," she observed once she'd caught her breath again.

"Oh really?" James asked. "Does that mean you want to share?"

"Mmm. I would like that, if you wouldn't mind?"

"I'd like that. But it'd mean moving."

She chuckled, and he felt another surge of desire at the sexy sound. "So it would. Give it five minutes, then."

"Ten."

"Very well." She pulled away from him and he immediately missed the warmth of her pussy surrounding his cock, but then she rolled over to face him instead and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body flush against his as she tucked her head under his chin.

"You realise that no one can know about us," she said quietly.

"Of course," he said immediately. "Don't worry, I do know how to be discreet."

"We'll have to be, otherwise we'll both be fired."

"Well, if that happened, at least we could be together openly."

She pulled back and looked up at him, a surprised expression in her blue eyes. "But James – " she began.

"Olivia." He kissed her softly. "I'd miss the work, of course I would. I can't deny that. But there are other jobs." He kissed her again. "I'd be more worried about you losing your job," he told her. 

She sighed. "Well, it's true I'm not ready to retire yet, but as I told you last night, I'll have to retire in another couple of years. It's not like I haven't had to think about it."

"All right. But I'm with you on the necessity for discretion. And we do work for the intelligence services – we ought to be able to manage discreet." He smirked. "Just so long as you keep on tearing shreds off me after every mission, I'm sure no one will be any the wiser."

"If you behave in your usual cavalier fashion while on your missions, I'm sure that won't be a problem," she retorted, and James laughed. 

"I promise not to allow the fact you're letting me fuck you distract me from my cavalier instincts," he promised.

This time it was Olivia's turn to smirk. "Good boy." She stretched. "Now, about that bath. I don't know about you, but I'm beginning to want some breakfast, but I refuse to eat until I've bathed."

"Yes ma'am."

She directed a scowl at him, which made him laugh again. Then he gave her a quick kiss, before rolling away from her, knowing that if he didn't move, he'd only want to fuck her again.


	2. Chapter 2

Forty-five minutes later they sat in the kitchen eating breakfast together.

"What are we going to do today?" James asked Olivia as he buttered toast.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "I have work to do."

He pouted. "That's boring."

"But necessary," she pointed out. "I suppose you'd prefer to spend the day in bed."

"Well, since we can't go out, and we're not expecting any visitors until Eve comes this evening, that sounds like a nice idea."

She shook her head at him. "Discretion's the better part of valour, remember? Supposing Tanner rings to tell us he's caught the two would-be assassins? I, for one, would want to be out of here as fast as possible so that I could go and interrogate them. And I wouldn't want to go back to SIS HQ smelling like I've just been indulging hot, sweaty sex."

"Christ, Olivia!" he protested. "Don't say things like that." He shifted in his seat and she smirked, guessing that he was getting aroused again. "What am I going to do in the meantime?"

"Well, for a start, you ought to clean my gun for me after the rather unorthodox use you put it to this morning."

He grinned at her across the table. "I was thinking of using my gun next time," he told her in a confidential tone. "With the silencer on it, of course."

This time it was Olivia's turn to squirm in her seat at the image that leapt into her mind. She bit back a moan, feeling sure that if she made such a sound, James would cast all restraint to the four winds and take her here and now. Then she realised that thought was no more helpful since the mental image of him taking her either bent over the kitchen table, or as she lay across the top of it was immensely arousing. Maybe she'd let him do that later.

007-007-007

She left James to do the washing up and clean her gun while she went to the comms room to do some work. He appeared periodically to bring her cups of coffee, but was so unobtrusive that she didn't really register it was him and not her PA who was supplying her caffeine fixes. At one o'clock, however, he made his presence felt by summoning her to have lunch with him.

She blinked, feeling a little bleary-eyed, then looked up at James standing beside her desk. "Yes, all right, Bond, I'll be there in a moment."

He gave her a nod, then sauntered away and she stretched, saved the report she'd been working on, then pushed to her feet. She felt stiff after sitting so long in one position, and realised she needed to go to the bathroom after all those cups of coffee.

Entering the kitchen, M found James had provided soup, as well as making sandwiches, and she raised an eyebrow at the sight.

"Trying to fatten me up, James?" she asked as he pulled out a chair for her.

"Certainly not," he said swiftly. "You've been working hard all morning so you need to refuel."

"Well thank you. The soup smells good."

"Thank you." 

They ate in an amicable silence, M's mind still half on the report she'd been working on before he interrupted her. When they'd finished eating, James got up to make coffee while M loaded the dishwasher; she was bending down to put something in the lower part of the machine when she became aware that James was standing right behind her, and as she straightened up her arse rubbed against his crotch, making her aware that he was aroused. She felt her nipples beginning to stiffen, and her pussy clenched involuntarily, but before she could move or speak, James' arms slipped around her and he pulled her body back against his, causing her to moan softly.

This seemed to be the signal he'd been waiting for because he turned her around and kissed her hard, his tongue slipping easily into her mouth. So absorbed was she in his kiss that it took her a moment to realise that he was backing her across the room towards the table, and then he picked her up and sat her on the edge.

"I want you, Olivia," he told her, leaning his forehead against hers as his right hand slid up under her skirt.

"So I see," she murmured as she cupped his straining erection through his trousers.

His fingers had reached her pussy and he began stroking her through her knickers, eliciting a louder moan of appreciation from her. After a few moments she was able to focus her attention enough to unzip and unbutton his trousers, before she eased his cock free.

"Not yet," he said quickly, and pulled his lower body out of reach. "Before we get that far, I have something else in mind."

She quirked an eyebrow at him, and he smiled, then hitched her skirt up onto her thighs. "I want to taste you," he explained, and knelt down to tug her knickers off, before his mouth descended on her pussy. 

"Oh fuck!" It had been a very long time since anyone had gone down on her, and Olivia had forgotten how good it felt to have someone eating her out; James' tongue was skilful and deft as he worked it in and out of her pussy, and it wasn't long before she felt the first tremors of her approaching orgasm. She spread her legs further apart, then pressed James' head more firmly between her thighs as he fucked her with his tongue, his nose rubbing against her clit to send her closer and closer to the edge. She climaxed hard, her hands gripping James' head and her hips lifting up with the force of her orgasm.

He lifted his head, his chin damp with her juices, and slid two fingers into her pussy to stroke her through the aftershocks as he watched her face. 

"Fuck, James." She was still breathing heavily, he noticed, and he couldn't help smirking just a little in consequence. 

He eased his fingers free, then produced the lube, and she took it from him to apply it to his rampant cock.

"Fuck, Olivia." He wasn't smirking now, and he wondered if that was her intention. He lifted her up and slightly further back on the table so that her pussy was more accessible, then he slid into her, moaning at the way her muscles clung to his prick as he filled her. She felt exquisite – hot and slick, and tight, too.

He held her hips, then began to thrust, slowly at first, then more rapidly as his arousal built towards its crescendo; she came first, her muscles tightening around his length, and then he was spilling inside her.

He lifted her until she was sitting up again and kissed her deeply, aware that his cock, while beginning to soften, was still buried inside her – it felt good, but he knew she wouldn't be happy if he didn't move soon and let her get back to work.

"You are a very bad man, Mr Bond," she told him, her tone stern. "Thank you." She nipped at his bottom lip, then squeezed his cock with her pussy muscles, which he took as a sign he should get moving.

"I try, ma'am," he told her, smirking again. He stepped back, then turned to grab the box of tissues he'd strategically stationed nearby and she took them from him, beginning to clean herself up.

"I'd better get back to work," she told him. She gave him a quick hard kiss, then slid off the table and made her way to the bathroom. She was feeling slightly sore again, but she supposed that would pass once she got used to fucking James, whose cock had a greater girth than her late husband's had done. It was worth the soreness, however, to feel both well-fucked and nicely relaxed, and she couldn't help thinking that maybe they should have done this before. 

Apart from anything else, having the man known as the Service's greatest seducer as her fuck buddy was extremely good for her ego, even if no one else could know that James Bond was fucking his boss.

007-007-007

James made dinner for them both, and the first M knew of it was when he came to tell her that it was ready. They ate watching the news, which wasn't something M normally did, but she was feeling slightly cut off with only Bond for company, and while she'd been working as usual, it wasn't the same as being in headquarters, at the hub of SIS' activities, like a spider at the centre of her web.

Shortly after they'd eaten, Eve arrived with further fresh food supplies, some files which M had requested, and the news that Tanner had just heard from one of his teams of agents who had managed to track down Peters and Harrison's bolthole, only to find it had already been wiped and abandoned.

"He said to tell you that when they said 'wiped' they meant forensically cleaned," Eve told her boss.

M nodded. "That's their usual MO," she said. "Damn them. Do we have any further leads?"

"Apparently a car, and we're not 100% sure it's the same one, bearing the number plate we'd tagged, was found torched and abandoned on the border of Surrey and Hampshire."

M sighed. "So they've changed vehicles as well? Christ, that lessens our chances of finding them even further."

"Yes ma'am. I'm sorry."

"Not your fault, Eve," M said, waving away her apology. "I do try not to shoot the messenger."

"Unless the messenger's me," Bond chipped in, and she gave him one of her trademark glares. 

"Thank you, Mr Bond." He gave her an unrepentant smirk, and she scowled, then turned her attention back to Eve. "The spot where the torched car was found – were there any CCTV cameras anywhere in the vicinity?"

"I don't know, ma'am, but I'll mention it Mr Tanner and see if he has checked that."

"I'm sure Bill has," M said, "but it would be good to be certain."

Eve nodded. "Is there anything else I can get you, ma'am?" 

"No, thank you Eve." 

Eve smiled, and got to her feet, Bond following suit so that he could let her back out. M took the files to the comms room and locked them in the filing cabinet to read the following day. She turned around and found Bond lounging against the door frame, a gleam in his eye.

"Yes Mr Bond?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "Mr Bond? That's a little formal for out-of-office hours, isn't it?"

"James."

He smirked, then sauntered towards her, his hands in the pockets of his suit trousers, which served to emphasise his crotch. She saw that he was aroused, if not fully hard, and she licked her lips; her pussy was throbbing and her nipples had tightened too.

"Come to bed, Olivia," he said, and she gave a quick nod. 

"You'd better lock up." 

"Already done." He held out his hand, and she took it, allowing him to lead her into her bedroom.

He undressed her slowly, kissing and caressing her so that her skin was tingling and flushed by the time he slipped her knickers off. 

"Lie down," he said, his voice low, and she complied, then watched as he swiftly stripped off his own clothes. He watched her watching him, and felt his cock stiffening further at the gleam in her eyes.

He crossed to the dressing table and took the lube from her toiletries bag, then he picked up his gun, which he'd left with the lube, and carried them both across to the bed.

"You're really going to fuck me with that?" she asked, and he noted that she sounded merely curious.

"I really am – unless you don't want me to?"

"So help me, I do want you to – I'm not sure what it says about me that the idea of you, the licensed killer, fucking me with your own gun, is such a turn-on, but it is. No doubt Dr Hall, were I ever so foolish as to tell him, would have a field day."

James shook his head. "Who cares what the psychiatrists think? Maybe it is kinky, or even perverted, but what matters is that you want me to do it, and I want to do it to you."

"Ever the pragmatist, James," she said, smiling up at him.

He knelt beside her on the bed, and showed her that it wasn't loaded, then he set it to one side. "First though," he said, and stretched out between her legs.

"Mmm. I do love it that you're so ready to go down on me," Olivia said, then hummed as he drew his tongue up her pussy lips.

"Well you taste so good," he told her, his voice muffled by the way that his face was buried between her thighs. Whatever reply she might have made was lost in her moan of satisfaction as he nipped gently at her flesh, then flicked her clit with his tongue. He felt her hands clasp his head as he set to work to bring her to a climax, and his groin tightened as he felt his own arousal building. Olivia was so wonderfully responsive; her body shuddered and quivered as he fucked her with his tongue, and he could hear her egging him on, her husky voice sounding huskier in consequence of her growing arousal.

Her hips jerked as she climaxed, and he greedily lapped up her juices, before lifting his head. The sight of his boss, whom some of those in the Service still referred to as the Ice Queen, with her flushed skin, tousled hair, and the just-fucked look in her eyes, was a beautiful one in James' eyes, and it required considerable restraint on his part not to simply thrust his cock into her and fuck her senseless.

Fortunately he had a lot of self-restraint, far more than some people credited him with, in fact, so he simply lifted himself up, conscious of the weight of his swollen cock and aching balls, and moved to her side.

"Ready?" 

She licked her lips, then nodded. "Fuck me, James."

He picked up his gun, and the lube, and slicked up the long barrel of the silencer, then rubbed the end of it against her clit, before slipping the first inch into Olivia's slick heat.

"More."

The tone of command was pure M, and he didn't hesitate to obey, sliding the barrel in further, then deeper still until she grunted. He withdrew the gun slowly, then slid it back in a little faster; soon he was fucking her in earnest, the handle of the gun growing warm in his grasp as he thrust the barrel of the silencer in and out of her pussy. He watched her face closely, and saw her eyes grow very wide as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge, and then he couldn't move the gun because her pussy had clenched tightly around it as her muscles spasmed in orgasm.

"Christ!" Olivia's low-voiced exclamation let him know that he'd performed satisfactorily, and he smiled down at her, relishing the expression on her face.

"Come here, James."

Her tone brooked no argument, so he moved to position his body over hers, and groaned as he felt her small hand wrap itself around as much of his cock as she could encompass. Then she was guiding it inside her still throbbing pussy, and he licked his lips, then ducked his head and kissed her deeply.

"Your turn, love," she told him, and he felt his heart swell at her words.

He kissed her a second time, then began to thrust as Olivia pulled his body down flush with hers, her arms around his shoulders, and her legs entwined with his. 

She nipped at his earlobe, then spoke softly in his ear, "Come on James, fuck me hard. I know you want to."

He groaned. "Christ, Olivia!" He drove his cock yet deeper, aware of how close he was to climaxing, and he felt her nails digging into his skin as she clung to him, her body arching upwards to meet his every thrust.

"Yes, James. C'mon! Fuck me harder."

"Fuck!" He felt his pace increasing as he pounded into her, until she squeezed her muscles more firmly around his cock, and then he was coming so hard he thought he was going to pass out.

007-007-007

M smiled as James roused himself from his post-orgasmic torpor, lifting his head from her chest, and gazing at her blearily.

"All right?" she asked, and he grinned, then leaned down and kissed her. 

"Yes, I am. You?"

She smirked. "Yes, thank you."

"Good." He rolled off her, and pushed himself upright. "I'd better clean my gun before I do anything else."

She nodded, watching his arse appreciatively as he crossed the room to the door, his gun in his hand. She shivered slightly, and decided to put on her pyjamas before she got too chilly for comfort.

She had just climbed back into bed, and James was coming through the door with his gun held loosely in hand, when the internal phone rang, and M was out of bed and heading for the comms room immediately. 

"Talk to me," she said as she answered the call. She saw Bond from the corner of her eye; he gave her a questioning look and she grimaced at him, then gestured to her pyjamas. She saw understanding blossom in his eyes and he hurried out – she trusted that he had gone to get dressed.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, ma'am, but it looks like you're shortly going to have a couple of unwanted visitors," Tanner said, and despite his courteous tone, she could hear an undertone of anger.

"What happened?"

"Eve was on comms with me and on her way back here when it all went pear-shaped. She was certain someone was following her when she left you an hour ago, and she contacted me to report it when she was car-jacked. It seems Harrison and Peters didn't initially realise that she was on live comms, so I overheard their first exchanges. Harrison recognised Eve as one of those who had arrived at your car when you were targeted yesterday, and he guessed from her civvies that she was one of our agents rather than a CTC officer."

"Did they follow her from here? I assume not, or they would already have arrived by now."

"No, ma'am. She was about half way between you and HQ when they spotted her, and she led them quite a chase before they forced her off the road. I had hoped that we could get some agents to her for an intercept before Peters and Harrison made her give up your location, but we weren't quick enough."

"Is Eve all right?" M asked as Bond reappeared in the doorway, now fully dressed.

"The last I heard from her, yes. But I lost comms with her ten minutes ago." She heard Tanner swallow, before he went on, "They roughed her up a fair bit before they got your location out of her."

"I understand, Mr Tanner." She was quite sure that he was understating the case, but guessed he didn't want to worry her.

"The back-up team is on its way, ma'am, but they won't be with you before Harrison and Peters reach you as the latter pair are nearly with you."

"Very well, Mr Tanner. Bond and I will do our best to keep them out of the house. I assume you've alerted the security people who look after this community?"

"Yes ma'am. One of our officers, Mike Lessways, is on duty tonight, and he's promised to notify me if either Harrison or Peters penetrate your perimeter. He's also called our other two officers in as back-up, but they'll also take another few minutes to arrive."

All right, Mr Tanner, thank you for letting us know. I'll speak to you later."

"Yes ma'am."

"Trouble?" asked Bond as soon as M had hung up. 

"Yes." She recounted the facts to him as she moved towards her bedroom. "I'm going to get dressed. Keep an eye out for Lessways and our other two officers, and for Peters and Harrison's arrival."

"Ma'am."

M was relieved that he didn't show any inclination to argue with her at the moment. She had a moment's regret for their interrupted evening, and hoped they would be able to make up for it at some point.

007-007-007

Bond watched the monitors, glancing from those covering the car park and the front of the building, to the two which covered the back, and he spotted one of the two men coming through the pedestrian gate just as M returned, now dressed and looking every inch the head of the Secret Intelligence Service.

"Looks like they're going to use Eve as a human shield," he observed, as Evelyn Peters manhandled the field agent through the gate. He was taller than the dark skinned woman, and had a choke-hold on her throat, and a gun pressed to her temple as he frog-marched her across the car park.

"Bastards don't change, 007," M said, her tone icy with barely restrained anger.

"No ma'am." He glanced at the monitors which covered the back of building. "Still no sign of Aubrey Harrison."

"Hopefully he's still trying to get in the back – and failing. Where's Lessways?"

Bond shook his head. "I don't know. I can't see him. Do you want me to ring him?"

"I'll do it," she said. "If you can open the front door without becoming a target, do so, and hail Peters. Let him know he doesn't have the element of surprise."

"Ma'am."

He moved swiftly into the hall, then eased the door open, being careful to stay behind it, although he knew that if Peters was so inclined, he could shoot him through the wood. He wasn't sure if Eve had seen the door opening, but he heard her speaking to Peters, and the latter's snarl of anger in response.

"Peters! Stay where you are, or I'll shoot!" Bond peered around the edge of the door and saw Peters had obeyed, for the moment, and that Eve was still struggling to get free of her captor. 

"Send Emma Masefield out, or I'll shoot your pretty little agent right here," snarled Peters. For a moment Bond couldn't think who Peters was talking about, until he realised 'Emma Masefield' must have been M's cover name when she was head of Station H.

"That's not going to happen," Bond shouted. "Be realistic." He became aware that M was in the hallway behind him and hissed, "What?"

"Lessways isn't answering. I fear he's dead or unconscious – knowing these two though, I'd go with dead."

"Shit!" Bond didn't bother trying to hide his anger at this news. He'd been counting on Lessways to take Peters out from behind. "Any sign of Harrison yet?"

"No." There was a long pause, then M asked, "Can you take Peters down without killing Eve?"

"No," he answered flatly. "And if I tried, I'd be exposing myself to his fire."

"Don't," she said instantly.

"Ma'am, you know full well that your safety is of paramount importance. Neither Eve nor I matter so long as we can keep you safe."

"And what makes you think getting yourselves killed will keep me safe?" she retorted, her tone tart. "If they can take the two of you out, they can take me out, too."

"Then what do you suggest?" Bond snapped.

"Eve needs to distract Peters to give you a good shot at him."

"How do you propose to convey that to her?" asked Bond.

"Where are Eve's feet in relation to Peters'?" 

"To the side," Bond said, "Her upper body's right in front of his, but her left foot is in front of his right."

"Then shoot him in the lower left leg," M said. "That ought to distract him sufficiently for Eve to get out of his hold, and then you can take him down."

"Very well." 

Bond peered around the door, glad that it opened inwards to the right, so that he could aim around it. "Peters, let the girl go and put down your weapon or I'll shoot!"

"Better do as he says," Eve told her captor.

"Don't be stupid," snarled Peters. He was about to speak further when a shot rang out, smashing into his knee. He was thrown backwards, just as Eve threw herself sideways, then she span around and stamped on his right ankle, before stepping over his sprawled body to snatch up his gun.

Bond glanced back at M. "Where's Harrison?" he demanded. 

She shook her head. "There's no sign of him on the CCTV. Ask Eve."

"Eve." 

She looked up briefly at Bond's call, her gun hand steady. "Yes 007?"

"Where's Harrison?"

"By the gate. Dead."

"And Lessways?" asked Bond.

"Down, but not dead."

Bond glanced back at M, and she nodded, so he hurried out to join Eve. 

007-007-007

As Bond went to join Eve, M heard the phone ringing, so she went to answer it, to find an anxious Tanner on the other end.

"Everything all right, ma'am?"

"Yes, thank you Mr Tanner. Harrison's dead, and Peters is injured and our captive."

"Good."

"Where's the back-up team?"

"They should be with you any moment," he said. 

"Very well. I'm going to send Peters back in the custody of Eve and the back-up team. We also need a medical team for Lessways."

"They're on their way also," Tanner assured her. 

"Good. Give Peters medical aid, then lock him up. Bond and I will be in tomorrow morning, and I will oversee Peters' interrogation then."

"Yes ma'am."

"Good work Mr Tanner. Goodnight."

"Goodnight ma'am."

M hung up, then went out to tell Bond and Eve the arrangements that she'd made. She found the back-up team had arrived in her absence, and Eve was watching as two burly officers hauled Peters up off the ground. Bond was by the gate talking to someone whom M presumed was the lead medical officer. After a few moments he jogged across the car park, and joined M and Eve.

M gave her instructions, and Eve nodded, then wished them both a goodnight before following the others back across the car park.

"Are you all right, ma'am?" Bond asked.

"Tired," she answered. She went into the flat, and after Bond had followed her and locked up, she turned to him. He held out his arms to her, and she stepped into his embrace. "Let's go to bed, James."

"That sounds like a good idea." He kissed the top of her head, then guided her back to her bedroom. 

They undressed in silence, then climbed into bed, and Olivia allowed him to draw her into his arms, settling her head on his chest.

"Goodnight James."

"Night Olivia. Sleep well."

007-007-007

James woke early the following morning with a pressing need to pee. When he returned, M was just stirring into wakefulness.

"Morning, Olivia." He slid back into the bed and kissed her temple. She rolled over from her right side to her left so that she was facing him. 

"Time is it?" she asked, her voice a sleepy murmur.

"Five."

"Too early," she complained, and he chuckled softly. 

"Go back to sleep then," he told her. "We don't need to get up just yet."

"Mmm." She snuggled against him and he wrapped his arms around her, then when she hooked her right leg over his left he moaned softly: her sex was pressed against his groin, and he could feel her heat stirring his cock into life.

"Stay like that, and I can guarantee that I won't be going back to sleep," he told her.

"Mmm." She shifted against him, her lips curving into a wicked smile; her eyes were still closed, but he wasn't fooled into believing she was even half asleep – the smile proved otherwise.

"Little witch," he murmured, sliding his hands down her back to clasp her arse and press her body even more tightly against his.

She opened her eyes and he stared down into them, seeing the desire wakening in their depths.

"James?"

"Yes Olivia?"

"Will you make love to me?"

He leaned down and kissed her tenderly on the mouth. "I'd like that," he assured her. He trailed kisses along her jawbone to her ear, nipping very gently at the lobe, then he kissed down the column of her throat, smiling as she tilted her head back for him.

"Lie back."

She complied, and he began kissing the tops of her breasts before taking one stiffening nipple into his mouth and rolling his tongue around it. He repeated the process with the other nipple, then trailed kisses down over her abdomen and stomach until he reached her mound. 

She moaned as he eased her thighs apart, then nipped gently at the skin on each inner thigh before he kissed her pussy lips. Her next moan was louder as he slipped his tongue inside and began to devour her; as his mouth worked on her, he felt his cock swell to full stiffness and he couldn't help moaning, which had Olivia clutching at his head as the vibrations left her tingling. He teased her clit with his thumb as he continued to work his tongue in and out of her hot pussy, and her body bucked upwards in response. Her grip on his head tightened as he drove her closer and closer to her climax, and then she cried his name as her orgasm washed through her. He lapped up her juices for a few moments, but was careful not to devour them all; instead he levered himself up into a kneeling position, then grabbed the lube and applied some as she watched him, her expression dazed by her release.

Satisfied that she was ready for him, he clasped the head of his cock and rubbed it up and down her pussy lips a couple of times, then began to guide it inside her.

"You feel so good," he told her, "so hot, and slick, and tight."

She hummed in obvious appreciation. "You feel good, too, James. So hard and big. I love the way your cock fills me."

Once he was fully sheathed inside her, he began to gently rock his hips back and forth; he kissed her again and again, tender yet passionate, and she clung to him, her hands clutching his arse as he began to increase the pace of his rocking.

Eventually he had to begin to thrust, but he did so far less forcefully than he had the night before, but there was no less pleasure in making love to Olivia than there was in fucking her hard, and he came with her name on his lips, moments after she had come with a soft cry of his name.

"Thank you James." She shifted her hands from his arse to his head and lifted it so that she could kiss him. "That was wonderful."

"My pleasure," he told her, and she could see the sincerity in his blue eyes. He slid his arms beneath her, then rolled onto his back, bringing her with him, and she tucked her head under his chin, feeling sleepy and satisfied.

She was aware of James pulling the bedding back over them, cocooning them in warmth again, and sighed softly. It was a shame they couldn't do this every night, but it wasn't possible – if they found out, her superiors wouldn't hesitate to use it against her, she knew, since the Old Boys' Network still reigned supreme in Whitehall and Westminster. It wasn't uncommon for MPs to shag their secretaries, but god forbid the head of the Secret Intelligence Service should take an agent for a lover – the powers that be would instantly conclude that her judgement was impaired and they'd remove her, or Bond, or both, from their posts immediately. Supposedly women weren't capable of detachment once they were involved with a man – never mind the fact that men who were in the throes of lust weren't capable of thinking with anything but their pricks.

She and James would have to work something out, because now that they had become lovers, she had no intention of giving that up, but it would require skilful efforts on the part of them both to avoid getting caught.

007-007-007

M led the way out of the lift and along the corridor to the interrogation cells in the basement of one of SIS' anonymous buildings in central London. Tanner was at her left shoulder, and Bond at her right, and they were trailed by two further male agents. 

Arriving at the correct door, M gave Eve Moneypenny an enquiring look. "Has his attitude changed yet?" she asked, although she had no expectation of receiving a positive answer.

"No ma'am."

M gave a sharp nod, then gestured at the door. "Shall we?" She glanced at the men behind her. "Norris, you remain out here. Daniels, you're with me, as is Moneypenny."

"Ma'am." A chorus of voices accepted her orders, then Eve keyed in the electronic code, pressed her palm to the scanner, and the door opened with a heavy clunk. 

Eve stepped through first, then Daniels, while Bond and Tanner remained at M's back as she crossed the threshold into the interrogation room. 

Evelyn Peters was seated on a plain wooden chair; his arms were behind the back of the chair, and his wrists fastened with plastic restraints. Similarly, his ankles were fastened to the legs of the chair, also with plastic restraints.

"So, Mr Peters, you haven't changed your mind, I gather?" M asked as she came to a stop behind the chair that was positioned on the opposite side of the table from her prisoner.

"Bah!" Peters hawked and spat, his face turned away from hers, although she suspected he'd far sooner spit at her; he had to know, however, that such a gesture of contempt would be taken badly by the agents who accompanied her, and that he was likely to be punished if he did anything so overt.

M shook her head as he turned to face her again, then pulled out the chair and seated herself. Tanner sat down on her left, but Bond remained standing behind her right shoulder. Eve positioned herself in a deceptively casual leaning pose against the wall on M's right, while Daniels stood opposite her, his shoulders against the left hand wall.

"Very well, then. Let's begin. Mr Tanner, inform Mr Peters of the list of charges we have levelled against him."

"Ma'am."

M tuned out Tanner's words as he read out the list of charges which she had drawn up, with his assistance, and that of the top SIS lawyer, that morning. She and Bond had arrived at the office at 8.30am, and she was prepared to swear that no one had the slightest idea that their relationship had changed profoundly in the last forty-eight hours; she'd paid especially close attention to Tanner and Eve, since they had both visited the safe house and were the most likely to pick up on any subtle changes in either her own or Bond's behaviour, but neither one had shown any sign of noticing such changes, so she concluded that their manner towards each other had appeared normal to her subordinates.

She tuned back in as Tanner came to the end of his list, and focused her attention fully on Peters.

"You're going to be locked away for a very long time, Mr Peters," she told him. "However, if you're prepared to cooperate with us, give us the information we require, then we'll recommend you for a better class of prison."

Peters glared at her from across the table. "I'm not telling you anything, old woman. So you can fuck off and go rot in hell."

M shook her head slightly. "We intend to get the information from you, one way or another, Mr Peters – it's up to you whether we do so the easy way, or the hard way."

"You wouldn't dare," he sneered, but M didn't miss the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

"Oh yes we would," she told him. "You're a traitor to the Crown: I don't doubt you and your friend sold a lot of secrets to the Russians even before you defected. On the night you left, you were responsible for the deaths of four agents, the men and women sent to bring in you and Harrison, and your defection led to the deaths of six other agents, that we know of, whose cover was blown by you. Or weren't you listening to Mr Tanner's list of charges against you? So we won't be letting you leave here before you give us the information we want – make up your mind to that. If you fail to cooperate, I have some very highly trained agents who will persuade you to give up every last one of your secrets without even breaking a sweat."

She gazed at him across the table, her eyes cold with implacable hatred. "Which is it to be, Mr Peters?"

He shook his head. "I won't tell you anything," he repeated.

M sighed. "You will, Mr Peters, you will." She got to her feet, and Tanner followed suit. "Mr Tanner?"

"Ma'am?"

"Tell Major Townsend that he may begin at his earliest convenience. And inform him that the first question to which I require an answer is why Peters and Harrison tried to kill me, specifically why now."

"Yes ma'am." 

M led the way across the room, followed by Tanner and her agents. They took the lift up to the ground floor, and M instructed Bond to accompany her, while Tanner and Eve returned in a separate car. Daniels and Norris were remaining behind as part of the security team who would be looking after Peters.

"Are you all right?" Bond asked in a low voice as their driver pulled away and began the journey back to Vauxhall Cross. She glanced at him, eyebrows raised, and he gave her a half smile. "It can't be easy confronting a man who's a traitor, who betrayed not only his Queen and country, but you, as his superior," Bond observed.

"No, it's not easy," M admitted. "But the job needed to be done."

He gave her a nod of comprehension, and she felt the brush of his fingertips against her hand where it rested on the car seat between them. Looking at him from the corner of her eye, she saw the sort of resolute expression she'd come to know and associate with Bond, and she knew he'd do everything in his power to protect her from whatever came her way, no matter what the personal cost. She just hoped that nothing would ever come up that cost him his life.

She gave herself a mental shake, then said, "I'm going to have to send you overseas again, 007."

"Ma'am?"

"Something's come up in Turkey," she told him. "I shall have to send you out there, and probably one or two other agents too."

"Very well, ma'am."

There was nothing else he could say, of course, not when he could be overheard by the driver, but she could see that he wasn't happy at the prospect. If it came down to it, she wasn't either, but they both had a job to do, and she would see that it got done, no matter how difficult it might make their new relationship.


End file.
